Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1887-08-26
The Lonely Lille Grave.

The Lonely Little Grave.
Did you ever come suddenly upon q
grave off on the prairie, far from any
human habitation? Nothing can seem
more sad and lonely than such grave,
with the summer wind bending and
waving the tall grass with low muir
muring harmony, which you can just
hear If you listen closely, like far-ofi
music.
/ | remember finding such a grave, Il
little one, a number of years ago, in a
then almost unsettled portion of Dakota.
Ii was ten miles 10 the nearest house.
! But there was board at the head and
/ foot-it WAS less than three feet long,
and an attempt at fence around IL. IL
was not an old grave. aud there was n
little wild rose bush growing on ii, but
the soil was so dry that il WAS not Hour
ishing, and It had but one little withered
bud, while on the surrounding prairie
TIE IOscs WCIS All iii OiVou'i Hh"N'"S ~
seem almost like garden.
rode twenty miles beyond before |
came toa house. Here man was
working near a little new board "shack.
got into conversation with him, and
asked if he knew about the little grave.
"Bout fifteen miles this side O. where
the town is started now, an near little
mound?"
Yes"
"Our little boy is buried there the
only child we had. He died there when
we were movin' into the country n
month ago, and buried him there with
my own hands, anG nobody with me
'cept my wife-an' the HOSES, the hosses
looked on-and we come away and left
him, I'm goin' back after him soon, and
we'll make him little grave here near
our home, where 1t won't be so lone
some for the little fellow"
"Was he sick longs"
l@tSS II ~ hCChs lAO wac hOOh S'N"
one afternoon, and the next day IL hurt
him to ride in the wagon, and so we
stopped there with him. lie grew worse
and nothing my wife or me could do
seemed TO help him any, so l took Que
of the hosses an rode fifty miles TO the
nearest town. The doctor couldn't 60
out, but lie sent some medicine, and i
went back as fast as | could. Ny wife
was all alone out there on the prairies
in the covered wagon, and the little
fellow kept CROWN worse. lie seemed
to know he was goin' to die, an all day
he KEEP askin' when papa was comm
Ny wife set an held his head in her lap
an KEEP tellin' him that papa would
come pretty soon. Sometimes he would
drop into feverish sleep, an then he
would start up an say: Mamma, amt
papa tum yet | want to see him. An
she soothed him the best she could, an
tried to hide her tears.
81 got there jes' fore sunrise. The
sky was all red an mighty fine looking,
an the wind WAS still, an the grass an
little spring flowers all wet with dew.
Ny wife heard me outside, an | heard
her say papa has come. An stepped
up an crawled iato lhe front OF the
wagon, an his great big eyes were open
awful wide, an he held out his hands to
me an said: Use been waitin' for 90,
papa, 90 was gone awful long! An |
knelt by his side where his mother was
holdin' his head in her lap, and his eyes
wandered and looked out the front Of
the wagon at the bootiful red sky, ah'
once he stretched out his arms little,
and then the sun come up an he shut
his eyes, and my wife took hold OF my
hand, and we both knowed he was gone
ies' rs the sun come up.
"We did the best we could, burying
him there in a rough box made, cause
/ didn't know how fur we might 20, an
as told you I'm going back pretty soon
and bring him bere where It won't be
so lonesome for the poor little feller." -
Dakota Bel.